General Brain Exercise

Paul (my Husband) and I watched Julie & Julia the other night, and a few things have been sticking in my head ever since…A few slightly troubling things.

First of all, quick synopsis:
A modern day girl named Julie is bored with her life and decides to cook all 524 (or something like that) recipes in Julia Child’s French cookbook and document it in a blog. As we watch this storyline unfold, we also get to see a portion of Julia Child’s life around the time she published said cookbook.

As we sat on the couch, we both (Paul more so than I) became progressively annoyed by the Julie character as the blog became a bigger part of her life. Relationship problems began to crop up, as well as cheesy temper tantrums and pity parties. I found myself thinking, “Jeezo, what a selfish, egotistical…”

…Uh, oh…

Internal dilemma time. I knew when I began this endeavor that these thoughts would be popping up. Back when I first stumbled upon this thing called “blogging,” I was pretty sure that it must be the stupidest, most vain thing I had ever, ever heard of. Seriously, these people’s egos must have their own gravitational pulls. Why would I ever be interested in what is going on in this person’s life? Why would this person think I (or anyone) would care?

Hmmm… This one is a thinker for me. Why am I enjoying blogging so much? Is it because I think the world revolves around me?
Well, no.
Do I get my jollies from all the attention?
Well, maaayyybe…but not too many jollies! Only like, two jollies.
Do I think I possess knowledge that is entirely crucial to the rest of the world’s well being?
Sheesh, no!

So what’s the deal?
After a few days of thinking, my brain has come up with some explanations. First of all, Imiss miss miss writing. I even miss waking up at 4 am to finish a Victorian Lit paper that Itotally should have started on five days earlier.
I, however, do not miss waking up to finish any kind of Teacher Education paper. Ugh.

There’s just something awesome about the click click click of the keyboard and the act of filling up that “Untitled” page with rows and rows of your favorite font. I miss thinking things in my head and molding them into something tangible (well, tangible if you print it out…or touch the screen…).

So there’s that, the whole writing bit, but I still haven’t addressed the narcissism. Probably because I’m still having a hard time with it. The more I forced myself to think about it, the more I realized that this “blogging high” I’m experiencing feels an awful lot like the “Theatre high” I would get on stage. Being up there, in front of a bunch of people, putting your hard work on display is such a huge rush. Who knows? People could love what you’re doing or they could just hate it. Similar to the way I read and review my lines, I write and review my blogs. I prepare material and then present it to an audience, and it is scary and awesome.
So, all in all, I don’t think it’s because of my love of me that makes me blog; I think it’s my love of putting myself out there.

Finally, I thought about the blogs that I follow. Why am I following this person’s blog? What does it have to offer me? Some of them are written by friends or family that I want to keep up with. Others provide useful information that I can use in my business.

My favorite ones, however, entertain me with material I can relate to.

That, I think, is the other factor. I know there are plenty of other people who encounter situations just like I do, and sometimes the only thing that makes us feel better is knowing that we’re not alone. I’m sure there is someone out there who probably slams his or her knee on the baby gate at least 12 times a day, or was in love with Jonny Quest when they were in Junior High, or practices revenge speeches in the mirror while they put on their makeup or brush their teeth. If I can put my thoughts out into the universe and have a few people feel connected or at the very least, distracted, I’m going to be pretty darned pleased.

It doesn’t mean that I think the world revolves around me. Or that I can eradicate hunger and cure cancer with my words. It means that I know there are people out there who are just as scatterbrained and irrational as me…and it’s more fun to be one of the weirdos than it is to be a weirdo all by yourself.

About halfway through the day yesterday, I realized something:

It was my 1 year Blogaversary.

One year ago yesterday, I posted my first ever blog post, and got a totally awesome reaction from my family and friends. I can’t thank you guys enough for such a great response, as it helped give me the confidence to keep it up. (I won’t lie, it also gave my ego a little bit of a stroking…and it kind of needed it at the time…)

Today, my blogging isn’t nearly as frequent, or as much of a production as those first few posts…and maybe not quite as funny as I (tried really hard to be) was when I first started out…but I’m definitely more honest, and truly appreciative of the comments, shares, and support that I receive from my current blog followers.

I know my readership has dwindled, and I haven’t put a huge amount of effort into finding new followers…but I’m in kind of a recharge and reevaluate mode.

When I first started, I was very unsure of myself and the terrifying world that is Social Media. Luckily, I had irreplaceable help from some truly great people, and if it hadn’t been for them, I probably wouldn’t have gone from, “Hey…blogging sounds…kind of…interesting…” to “Oh, hey there, I’m a blogger. Here’s my business card.”
Like I said, however, I just had no idea of what I wanted, or who I was as a blogger. Now I’m starting to get ideas.
I’m going to ease up on the “features.” This isn’t a blog that is organized enough to have a “weekly this,” or “monthly that.”

Except the Monthly Male. I might make him the Sometimes Male, as he’s got some really good posts and people seem to respond to them well.

Wait. Let me retract that. Sometimes Male probably isn’t the right title, as Paul is Always a Male, and I don’t want to give anyone the wrong impression. Sorry about the accidental hit on your masculinity, Paul. I’m going to stop talking now.

Anyway, I’m just going to stick to the posts. I’m going to continue to be honest, and I’m going to do a much better job of responding to your comments…because comments are the biggest reward you can get as a blogger, and I can’t believe I did such a crappy job of ignoring those rewards.

So, hey guys, thanks. Thanks for being awesome, sharing my posts when you think people would like them, and for sticking with me in my very first year. A whole bunch of people start blogs all the time, and most of them quit after a couple of months. If it weren’t for you guys and your super-cool powers of being nothing but the best, I’d probably have turned into a diaper or a dish-wand by now.

As I was leaning against my kitchen counter this morning, taking a sip of my half-caff coffee (I didn’t have enough decaf and didn’t want the grinder to wake the baby), I took a look at the alphabet magnets on the fridge and had a realization that hit me like a, well, a refrigerator.

My God, I’m an adult.

Granted, this realization involved a fact of which I am plainly aware; I had just forgotten it for a few moments. This happens quite a bit, actually. Usually it’s when I’m running around the apartment after a shower, trying to find my pants, that I walk in and realize there is a baby taking a nap in the living room. A baby…who was created as a result of being married to my husband.

When the hell did that happen? (Okay, obviously, I know when that happened. If you’re not trying to be a jerk, you’ll get my drift.) Wasn’t it, like, yesterday that I was staring longingly at the yuppy/hippie (I call them yippies) men in the student union, positive that I was going to die alone and unhappy? Or with someone and terribly bored? Or as a direct result of eating the campus Taco Bell?

Let me stop where I am before I really piss off some people: I do not believe that being married and having a kid are the main criteria used to determine someone’s status as an adult. That just happens to be how my adulthood has taken form. I know that there are plenty of single people without kids out there who are more adult than I am.

Anyway, when I have these “epiphanies of the obvious,” something that always pops up in my head are little chunks of wisdom I wish I could give to a younger Lauren. Don’t get me wrong; I’m happy with where I am now, but had I known a few of these things, I may not have been so stressed out.

I would love to go back in time and say:

On high-school crap:
Hey. You’re not Molly Ringwald. Your high school stuff does not have enough importance to warrant a full-length movie. Only a very small percentage of your high school problems are actually going to matter in the future, and that percentage probably doesn’t have much to do with high school.
On not drinking alcohol:
Keep it up. A few years from now, you’re going to be very proud of yourself for never having to lie on your stomach in a pool of cornfield-water while hiding from the cops.
On the ever-stressful issue of college theatre:
Hmm. Guess what? You’re attending college in a very small university town. The fact that you didn’t get cast does not mean that you are the world’s worst actor. Now, in a few years, you may notice your ego inflating. Let’s also remember that, for the same reason, getting cast in a bunch of shows does not mean you are the world’s best actor, either. Nobody likes an obnoxiously pompous Theatre major.
On the inevitable occurrences of emotional angst:
Yeah, I know you’d rather grab some Mint Chocolate Chip and watch the Princess Bride, but you should really start on that paper. No, seriously, Past Lauren, you should start on it now.

As I said, this whole “realization” thing is something that happens quite a bit, so I’m always thinking of new things to tell my younger, less emotionally mature self. Not that I’m the world’s most emotionally mature woman, but I’d say I’ve definitely obtained some wisdom. Either way, I’m sure there will be more Advice for my Younger Self in the future.

Speaking of realizations…I’m off to work on the budget.